


Agathe, like Dukat: Fragrance

by BrokenBlade



Series: Agathe, like Dukat [4]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/M, I swear I won’t tease you, I want you baby, I want your love, I want your sex, don't you know I love you till it hurts me baby, let's make love, put your trust in me, won’t tell you no lies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:00:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27150793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenBlade/pseuds/BrokenBlade
Summary: Light and frisky, this is!I wrote this in the spirit of a "filler episode," because1) I needed a break from emotional heaviness while continuing the story, and...2) I wanted to gather strength for thenextstory after this, which will dive right back into the emotional deep end.Sooooo...Agathe's subconscious mind processes her simultaneous desire for two beautiful and opposite men.Too bad she can't just enjoy them both at the same time. We can take a moment to be sad about this.I'm sad about it. I would absolutely take them both at the same time. Wouldn't you?sigh....But we all know dear Agathe is tamer than that. These aren't those kind of stories.One man "loves" her so good, but we all know he'll leave her so empty.The other - well - she feels like he's too good for her - so heCAN'Teven "love" her so good - at all.So sad!  And this is supposed to be lighthearted.
Relationships: Dukat (Star Trek)/Original Female Character(s), Julian Bashir & Original Female Character(s)
Series: Agathe, like Dukat [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946584
Comments: 61
Kudos: 6





	1. Tackle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crystalcompassion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalcompassion/gifts).



> Well, at least we get a break from Agathe's childhood trauma. Whew!
> 
> I also tried to go light on her angst as well - but - not sure I _quite_ succeeded - sorry.
> 
> I mean, I'm apologizing to myself - the author - I wanted to lighten up on the angst so I wouldn't feel like jumping off a bridge after posting this, like every other time - sigh.  
> But what can I do? I'm only trying to express some shit.  
>   
>  _repeated note here:_  
>  Every time somebody leaves a kudos: I want you to know that touches me deeply. ❤ It makes me feel like - somehow - this story speaks to you. Thank you. ❤  
> 
> 
> _oh, the fucking angst..._  
>  _THANK YOU to Cosmic_Calico for timely encouragement_

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> _I learned from you_  
>  _I really learned a lot, really learned a lot_
> 
> _love is like a flame, it BURNS you when it's hot_
> 
> _love hurts_  
> 

  
I didn’t remember the _moment_ that he tackled me, but I knew he must have – he must have tackled me. He’d heard me thinking it, he’d felt me wanting it, he’d sensed me needing it. He must have known. He’s so sensitive, so perceptive, so intelligent and clear-eyed. He knew what was most necessary. So he did it. He tackled me. He tackled me and sheltered me underneath his body.  
  
We lay in the dark on the floor, naked together, warm, close. He held me in his arms, he pressed his body to my back. I felt his warmth against my shoulder blades, his safeguarding heat against my ass. We lay together on the floor next to the little table as far from the dabo action as we could go. It was okay – I felt infinitely safe with him. He shielded my body behind me, with all of himself. He guarded my breasts in front of me, with his warm arm, with his hand of protection.   
  
I’d given him my breasts, and now he lay loving them softly with his strong hand. He explored the contours of each – one at a time – with his large palm, closely caressing up over the under-surface, sweetly over my nipple, then down over it again as it shyly awaited his return, feeling it quietly bless his palm as he pressed his tenderly owning touch over it and over it again, up and then down, up and then down, squeezing gently, filling his hand with the ambrosia of my willing submission – not hurting me, not bruising me – just loving me softly – holding, cherishing, reverencing, adoring.   
  
I didn’t worry that Quark would find us. We were safe, we were hidden, we were tucked away in the dark. I should have smelled spilled drinks on the floor, but I didn’t. It was clean, it was dry. I smelled nothing but safety and desire.  
  
I focused on relaxing, on pushing away the worry that at any moment he would realize who I was, what he was doing with me, and leave me. I would enjoy him while I had him, for whatever reason I had him, for whatever reason he’d responded to my wanting him. _Julian… Julian…_ When did you come to me? When did you tackle me? When did you lay yourself over me, on top of me? I want to love you, _oh Julian, oh Julian_  
  
_Love me now, Julian, love me…_  
  
I felt him breathing warmly behind my ear, pressing his beautiful lips to my skin, lifting my hair to kiss me where my neck was damp with my heat, with my love for him. He nuzzled, he kissed, he worshipped and loved my breasts, _ohhhhhh Julian_ you do know where you’re taking me, don’t you, don’t you? Don’t leave me before you take me there, Julian, _I need you to take me_. I’m naked, you’re naked, your kisses are warm, your breath is hot, I feel you, _I feel you, don’t leave me, don’t change your mind…_  
  
_his lips on my earlobe, gently sucking my earlobe ahhhhhhh...licking licking oh Julian I didn’t think you would ever lick me like this_  
  
_lick me lick me take me – where are you where are you – I want you IN me Julian, be in me, be in me – I need you I’m afraid_  
  
He told me not to worry. He perceived it – he knew I worried that he would learn who I was, and leave me.   
  
_Don’t worry, don’t worry,_ he whispered, he breathed into my ear. _I see you, I know who you are_ , _I won’t leave you, I want you._  
  
_it’s not your fault I want you, not your fault, not your fault_  
_you didn’t trick me, you didn’t coerce me_  
  
_I can’t forget your breasts_  
_your breasts you gave to me_  
_you’re not to blame, Agathe, you’re not to blame_  
_I want you Agathe, you’re not to blame_  
  
He wants me, he wants me, ohhhhh  
_relief I can relax relax I can open myself to him_  
  
I feel his thigh, he’s pushing it between my thighs, he’s pushing _both_ of his thighs between mine, he’s opening my thighs with his own, so strong… _oh his body_ …he’s pushing his _warm body_ between my thighs to open them…   
  
_I can’t breathe I can’t breathe – I need you to open me, push me open for your love, push me open for your assurance_  
_come and push your love inside me so I can breathe again I want you_  
_yes yes yes yes_  
  
…now I’m rolling my hips for him, pressing my ass to him, encouraging him, responding to what his body’s assuring me, responding so he can have me better, so he can move inside me better, shifting for him, opening for him, waiting for him, flowering for him, yearning for him, aching for him…   
  
_I feel him, I feel him, so thick, so hard, so warm, he’s HERE_  
_I feel him I feel him_  
  
_Julian Julian I feel you, I feel you assuring me_  
_speak to me with what you have for me, I feel it_  
_I feel it, let it speak, touch me touch me, I feel the tip of it, please please push it into me, say something with it, tell me you love me with it_  
  
_He’s pushing, I feel him_  
_He’s pushing, he’s pushing it, he’s working it, he’s working it in, he’s sliding it in, he's IN, oh my god Julian ohhhhh deep deep deeper ohhhhhhh yessssss yessssss yesssssss ahhhhhhhh_  
  
_AHHHHHHH I’m awake I’m awake he’s FUCKING me he’s DOING me – he’s doing me so good so deep – so deep so warm – so INSIDE me – he’s DOING me, soft but so HARD, tender but so DEEP, rubbing and stroking, I feel his heat hugging my ass, so having, so owning_  
  
I’d never woken up like this before. Oh my God. Oh my God. How could I ever wake up again if not like this, _not like this. Oh my God._  
  
Not Julian. Not Julian. _Dukat._ Still in my bed, still on my back. He’d been on me, he’d slept on top of me, holding me, warming me, pressing me. I’d felt so good, so good, so safe so warm, so _done_ – I’d slept, I’d slept so good. He’d woken, felt my ass under him, my warm naked ass. He’d slipped a hand under me to fondle my breasts while I slept. I’d angled my body in my sleep, turning to make room for his hand, for _Julian’s_ hand, he’d fondled me, so good so good.   
  
He’d nuzzled my neck, sucked and pulled my ear with his lips, licked me, kissed me, kissed me under my hair in the damp heat, the damp heat where my neck is in love with him, where I felt _Julian_ breathing that he wants me, he wants me, _it’s not my fault, he wants me._  
  
He’d kissed me and begun to work his thighs between mine, to spread my thighs for him, to open me for himself, to let himself into my sleeping body. He’d made me soft and wet for him in my sleep, as I’d dreamed of _Julian_. He’d pushed himself into me, slid himself in, pushing inch by beautiful thickly pushing sliding inch, oh so thickly he’d pushed, pushed, _pushed_ his length ever deeper, deep, deep, smooth, filling me awake, stroking me out of my slumber, out of my dream, out of _Julian_ , into his heat, into his everything.  
  
When I knew it was Dukat I moaned, I sighed, I thanked him with my moans and sighs, I loved him with my sighs, _ohhhhhhhh there’s nothing like this – no one like you –_  
  
He nuzzled his face into my neck, with all his hot breath, his warm lips, the sound – the feel – of his breathing, his kissing, his tongue licking, gently sucking, gently, gently, slowly, patiently. He was my entire world of sensation, all that my body knew anymore, as I floated out of my dream – his lips, his tongue on my neck, as he stroked me smoothly inside me, with his treasure, stroking, stroking, smoothly.  
  
He moved his hand from my breasts, down to my most special place, where he rubs me so good. He rubbed me now, he rubbed me as he stroked me, with his strong hand he owned me as he filled me with his treasure, as he washed my neck with his tongue, as he owned me inside me, _oh god oh god oh god never leave me I don’t know how to live after this_  
  
_he stroked he stroked, he held title to me with his hand, he held me, he fondled me, he slayed me, he had me_  
  
I needed him to face me, to hug me, to hold me, to love me. I needed to be on my back under him, owned by him, loved by him. _I needed him_. I felt I was starving for the intimate touch of his scales on my belly, one of my most vulnerable places. I craved to be at his mercy softly. I raised myself with conviction, with assertion. I raised myself onto my elbows, to shift him off balance, to move him, to pause him. I got him out of me, off of my back.   
  
I rolled over and gazed up at him in the dark of the night, in the dim darkness. I could see his shape over me. He’s so beautiful. I was thankful he couldn’t see the passion in my eyes. I don’t want him to know how deeply he owns me. I don’t want him to see my love. My love is crazy, it’s wild, it shouldn’t _be_. I don’t know _what_ it should be. He’s Gul Dukat. My love makes no sense, it doesn’t compute. Yet it burns. _It burns it burns it burns._ I have to have him, I have to hold him. I don’t want him to know. _He’s unholdable_. I have to keep part of me for myself so I don’t wholly grasp him and fall away with him into nothingness.  
  
I reached for him with open arms and legs. I received him back into my body, on top of me, holding me, pressing me, weighing me. I love him like this. I love to be in his arms. He loves me in his arms.   
  
He enters me and strokes me and _we kiss_ and he warms me and he sighs and he groans and he grunts and he breathes and he moves and he slides and he thrusts and I feel _his love, his love, his love,_ he envelops me, he wraps me, he pushes me, he consumes me, he fills me. _I want him I want him._  
  
He comes in me, he kisses me, he spasms in me, he sighs in me, he groans in me, he loves in me, he spills in me.   
  
_oh I love him I want him he has me_  
_he sleeps on me_  
_i can breathe_  
_i sleep_  
  



	2. Suck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>  _I love myself, I want you to love me_   
>  _when I feel down, I want you ABOVE me_
> 
> _a fool could see just how much I ADORE you_  
>  _I'd get down on my KNEES, I'd do anything FOR YOU_
> 
> _I want you_  
>  _I don't want anybody else_
> 
> _when I think about you, I touch myself_  
> 

  
I don’t know which parts of this journal you’ll read. It’ll be easier for me if I assume _someone_ might read it, so…I think mostly I’ll just write it as if you’re going to read it.   
I like what you told me, to write everything down, just everything – whatever I think of, just write it down.  
Write what happens, write what I hear, what I do, what I say, what I think, what I feel. Whatever I want.  
I’ll decide which parts to show you or talk to you about.  
  
  
I know I’ll write about dreams. _I’ve been having dreams._ They are dreams I don’t want to wake up from. They confuse me when I’m awake. Or at least they set up camp in my mind – the way that they feel – the things that _I WANT_ , that I dream – they stay in my mind – they torment me during the day – I want them, I want to keep feeling them, I want to understand them. I’ll write them down too.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Dukat healed my arms. He saw the burns in the morning when we woke again and began to move. The burns I’d grated into myself against his armor, the night before. _“Agathe,”_ he told me, _“you’d better get these looked at.”_  
  
A few moments passed before our eyes suddenly met. I could read his. I could read him remembering _the doctor_. I tried not to smirk. I like it just fine if he thinks the doctor is _having me_ , even if he’s sure he’s so much better than _the doctor_.   
  
_“On second thought,”_ he said, _“I can take care of this myself. We use dermal regenerators all the time. I’ll go get one. Wait for me here.”_ He kissed my cheek.  
  
He was going to beam to his ship, site-to-site transport again.   
  
First he needed to put on his clothes. Not the armor, just the clothes.   
I would lie on my bed naked and wait for him. I make my quarters warm at night, since discovering I like it that way. Mornings are cozy.  
  
I watched him pick up a piece of clothing off the floor – his pants. He didn’t put them on right away. He handled the fabric until he found a certain spot, where he gathered it to his nose and inhaled with satisfaction, raising an angled eye ridge at me.  
  
My jaw dropped and I gasped. I threw a pillow at him. _How dare he!_ I giggled.  
  
I’d marked his pants with _my fragrance_ last night, my _agat_ flavor, my essence. I’d hiked my skirt to straddle him and ride him so hard, to come so good on him, on the floor.   
  
_I’d been wet and ready for him…his pants were scented with me now…with me taking him, taking him hard, taking him loud…_  
  
He returned to me, he leaned over me, he kissed my lips. He purred softly against my ear. _“I love it, Agat. It’s even better than last time. I keep it to remind me of you…whenever I’m…’thinking’…about you…”_  
  
He made me look and see the gleam in his eyes so I’d understand his meaning… _oh how dirty he was…how delicious…ooooh_ … _I bit my lip and blushed…he glowed and kissed me sweetly_  
  
  
  
  
  
I made it difficult for him to tend to my arms.  
He sat clothed on my bed, I sat naked on his thigh.   
  
I kept sucking his neck ridge, licking it, sucking it, trying nibbles on him, teasing him.  
_“Agat,”_ he warned sexily, _“you’re making this difficult for me.”_  
  
I moved higher, I licked the sharper ridge under his ear. _“Sorry, is this better?”_  
_“Agat…”_ laughing softly.   
  
_“Agat, if you drive me too wild right now, I won’t be able to do a very good job…”_  
I whimpered. I showed him my sad pout, my mournful eyes.  
  
He purred with deep authority.   
_“Agat, I promise, if you hold still for me and let me finish, I’ll let you suck me all you want, does that sound good to you? Hmm?”_  
  
It did. It did sound good. I held still for him and let him finish.  
  
  
  
  
  
He settled me onto my back, naked, my head propped on a couple of pillows.  
He kneeled at my side, fully dressed except for boots, armor, and _the thing_.  
  
I love to be naked for him. _Look at me, I’m naked for you, I’ll writhe for you, I’ll fondle my breasts as I look on you and worship you, as I drink in your fucking god beauty, you fucking god, you god of ridged beauty, ridges and scales._  
  
He likes to watch me.  
  
He moved his body close to my neck, to my face, as close as he could kneel to my mouth. He opened his pants and freed his treasure for me. He held it in his hand and brought it to me, touched it to my lips, tapped gently, pushed softly, nudged. So warm, so smooth, so alive. I felt drunk with hunger. I rubbed my bottom lip on it and licked the tip and lovingly pulled on it with both lips. _Ohhhhhh let me let me_  
  
I curled up to reach him, I hugged his hips, I grabbed his ass and pulled, I _buried his treasure_ in my hungry mouth, so deep, so full, all the way. _ohhhhhhhhhhhhh god yes he groaned so hard I love his groans_  
  
I would need to remember to nuzzle him too, nuzzle him on his scales, in his fragrance, to learn him again, to know him…  
  
I’ll do it right now, before I start sucking and stroking…  
  
_but first I have to lick him, all along the bottom of his treasure, all along it, all along it…yum…yum…_  
  
_“You know what I love?”_ I breathed. Kissed it, kissed him.  
_“What do you love, my Agat?”_  
  
_“I love your fragrance. Right here…”_  
I buried my nose in his sweetest spot, his most special place, where he’s scaled, where he’s fragranced, where he’s _dukat._ I inhaled, _ohhhhhhh_ … I breathed, I licked, I felt, I remembered. I learned, I memorized.  
  
_“I’ll remember your fragrance whenever I’m…’thinking’…about you too…”_  
I lifted my eyes to his so he could _see_ me, _understand_ me…so I could see him glow…he glows when he smiles…  
Licking, kissing his treasure as he watched and glowed. _“I LOVE thinking about you…I’ll think about you all the time, until I see you again…”_  
  
I returned my eyes to his treasure and once again slid him all the way into my mouth without warning. I _love_ how he groans when I do that, when he doesn’t know I’m about to do it – when I’m licking him and kissing and teasing, little licks, little sucks, little pulls and kisses, and then I drown him in one stroke, I take him all in, by surprise – he _groans_ , oh it’s so deep and so good, his groan, _I live for his groans, for that groan._  
  
He made it even _better_ , god help me – he finger-fucked me while I sucked him, with his large fingers he fucked me – _oh yes give me something to love against while I suck you, oh god_  
His fingers took me, my hips took his fingers, I fucked his hand, he fucked my mouth, I writhed, I arched, I took what he gave  
_ohhhhhhh so good so good so good_  
  
He held my hair, my head – with his other hand – he gripped my hair and held my head to his treasure, held me close to it, helped me stroke him and love him.  
  
His opened pants were soaked with my love, my drooling love from my mouth – he was everything my mouth could ever want, I made him as wet as possible. _I wanted him to feel good, to feel as warm and good as he made me feel…_  
  
He told me it made him feel good. He panted. _“…yes Agat…yes Agat…ohhhhhhhhh yes Agat…yes…yessssssss….ahhhhhhh yes…your lips…YOUR LIPS…ahhhhhhh…AGAAAAAT…AGAAAAAT…”_  
  
_My tongue, what of my tongue?_ I blessed my tongue over him as I loved him in my mouth, as I stroked him I slid my tongue around him. He groaned, he started to stroke me back – he didn’t hurt me – he only wanted to love me deeper, he wanted to _give it to me_ , he wanted to move in my mouth, to thrust, to stroke, to _fuck_. I wanted him to, so he did, _he did –_ _I love it, I love it_ when he fucks me – _any_ way he fucks me – _oh fuck me fuck me I love it your treasure your power your godhood – stroke me stroke me fuck me_  
  
I felt him coming, he was coming…I wanted him…oh I love him I want him… _come in me come in me_ …  
  
Oh he feels so good, his warm spasms, his pulses, the pulsing of his sweetness in my mouth, down my throat, oh so sweet. I felt it, I tasted it, I swallowed it – more – more – I took all he had, I swallowed it, I loved it, I drank him into me. I swallowed his groans, his beautiful groans. I held his groans inside me now. I kissed his sweet tip, his sweet sweet creamy tip. I looked in his eyes and licked my lips in worship. I felt so dizzy with him. He stroked my head with his hand on my hair. It makes me feel loved when he strokes my hair.  
  
His eyes were _on_ again, some kind of _on_. He showed me his fingers, he pulled them out of me and sucked on them, glowing, watching me watch him. He ran his tongue over them, licking my _agat_ love from them. He groaned darkly and threw his strong leg over me, straddling me so he could bend down and kiss me deeply, wetly. He shared his whole tongue with me, he owned my mouth – he made me taste what he loves about me, as he tasted what I love about him.  
  
I would taste _anything_ off of his tongue, he puts me out of my mind. It’s like he mind-fucks me too, mind-fucks me out of my mind.  
  



	3. Spice

  
_Oh, I wish I could hold this dream, it was sweet it was good._  
  
  
  
I dreamed I was naked for him again, on my bed, just as before. Naked for my dark and glowing god. Naked on my back. Writhing on my back, spreading for him, reaching for him, begging for him, aching for him. He knelt between my legs, fully clothed except for his armor and _the thing_.  
  
_“Have you been ‘thinking’ about me, Agat?”_  
_I have, I have, you know I have. I ‘think’ about you all the time._  
_“I’ve been ‘thinking’ about you too, my Agat. If you put your legs on my shoulders I’ll let you have my treasure. Does that sound good to you? Hmm?”_  
  
_it sounds good it sounds good, ohhhhhh pleeaase give me your treasure, I want it, I want you_  
  
I raised my ankles to his shoulders, his neck – his ridges, his flared ridges. He felt beautiful and strong. I held my breath watching him open his pants and free his treasure for me. He held it in his hand and touched it to me, he tapped, he pushed, he nudged. _Ohhhhhhhh now I panted for him._  
  
_“Tell me Agat, tell me what you want, let me hear you tell me.”_  
_I want you to take me, to have me, to own me, to fill me_  
_“Are you all mine, Agat?”_  
_I’m yours, I’m all yours, take me, I’m yours, please fill me with yourself_  
  
_“Good, Agat. I will.”_  
  
He positioned himself, kneeling wide so he could gift his treasure to me deep inside, he braced himself with his arms over me, a coiled mass, a primed beauty.  
He slid into me deeply with control, he filled me with himself, he stroked, slowly, smoothly, calmly, knowingly, _ahhhhhhhhhh…_ He’s never wrong, my glowing god, he’s never wrong. He’s so controlled. He knows what he wants, he knows what I want, he knows what he’s doing. _He’s so uncontainable._  
  
I wanted to lick him – I _needed_ to lick him, to love him. But where was his treasure? _Deep inside me_. How would I love him with his treasure inside me? How would I lick him?   
  
I looked to my left, where _Julian_ had shielded me at my shoulder the day I was hurt, shielded my neck from the dark specter, the bringer of pain.   
  
I was hurting now. The pain was in my heart. I knew I could never contain my dark and glowing god. He would leave me when he was finished. Where was my shield?  
  
_Here was my shield, at my shoulder._  
_My shield had come to me, he was here. He was here._  
  
_oh Julian you hurt me too, you’re hurting me now_  
_I need you, you can make it better, you can help me, you can pull me up to your side_  
  
_please_  
  
I searched his eyes, so open, so dark, so soft, so warm, so true.  
_I love you Julian_  
  
I saw he was naked. Naked like I was.   
He knelt by me, near to my face. Near.  
  
I saw hair.   
_Oh god, he has hair._  
Dark, curly hair. Delicious dark curly hair. _I haven’t seen hair in a long time…scales, only scales…but not hair…oh Julian…_  
  
_let me nuzzle your special place. I’m hurting. Come close. Come closer to me._  
  
_Will you help me, Julian? I’m hurting._  
_“Of course I’ll help you, Agathe. That’s what I’m here for.”_  
  
_let me nuzzle_  
  
_I’m nuzzling, I’m learning his fragrance, oh his fragrance…_  
_cardamom, cinnamon, ginger, fennel_  
_sweet spicy hot stinging beautiful ohhhhhhh_  
_oh it’s good, it’s good – it’s spicy, it’s good_  
  
I kissed him in his spicy hair, I loved him with my nose, I nuzzled, I burrowed, I nested. He was soft, he was spicy, he was dark, he was curly. Oh, so sweet.  
  
_oh Julian, I need to feel better_  
_“Here, Agathe, this will make you feel better. Take this. Take it in your mouth. Lick it. It will make you feel good.”_  
  
_ohhhhhhh yes oh yes_  
_at last at last my love_  
  
Oh, he was sweet, he was hard. I led with my tongue, my loving tongue, I led with my love. I made him ready with my love, I licked him, I wet him, I loved him. _Ohhhhh, he tasted good on my tongue,_ of course he did, of course he did. His spiciness filled my nostrils as I licked and I loved. When he was ready I slid him into my mouth. _Ohhhhhhh_ this could save me, he could save me, he could love me, I could give him all my love and he could love me.  
  
He shielded my breasts while I sucked him. He held them in his intelligent hands, so sensitive, so perceptive. My breasts are his, they are for him – I gave them to him. My dark and glowing god doesn’t need them, he has the rest of me. He has _all_ of me – except for my breasts and my heart and my love. Those are _Julian’s, Julian’s._ Julian safeguarded my breasts while I loved his goodness with my tongue, while my scaled god stroked me with his treasure.   
  
It was good, it was good.  
  
  
  
_I want to live in that dream._  
It feels like life, it feels like love, it feels like warmth and safety and desire.  
  
  
  
But I don’t know of a world which intertwines these two sweetnesses, brings them together – Dukat’s fragrant treasure and Julian’s spicy goodness. Only in my dream, only in my dream.  
  
  
  
What does my dream tell me?  
  
What does it _mean_ , that Julian is naked with me while Dukat is fully clothed?  
Which of them is _more_ in me?  
Which of them truly _has_ me?   
Which of them can I possibly _hold?_  
Which of them do I _love?_  
  
  
I didn’t _‘want to love’_ Julian anymore, in my dream. I _loved_ him. I licked him, I loved him with my tongue. I took him in to myself, as I’ve taken Dukat. I sucked him, I loved him with my tongue inside my mouth, I loved him in my dream. I smelled his spice and I loved him.  
  
It feels good to write that I loved him.   
  
Maybe I _could_ love him.  
Maybe I could love him as much as I know how.  
  
Maybe it wouldn’t _need_ to hurt him if I loved him as much as I know how. I’m smart, I can keep learning. Maybe I can build on what I know, and learn from _him_. And maybe each day I can love him better than the day before.   
  
I want to love him – without hurting him. I want to learn.   
  
_That might mean I love him._  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _...legs on his shoulders…_
> 
> Such yumminess is here written in honor of Raina, the heroine of SparklyQuarians’ _What follows across the stars…_
> 
> Raina, may you forever receive the loving blessing of Gul Dukat, with your legs on his shoulders.


	4. Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>  _love WOUNDS and marks_
> 
> _any heart not tough or strong enough_  
>  _to take a lot of PAIN_  
>  _take a lot of pain_
> 
> _love is like a CLOUD, it holds a lot of RAIN_
> 
> _love hurts_  
> 

  
Raila found me this morning. In the replimat. I’d gone for coffee and the bright hustle and bustle of the public area at breakfast time.   
  
I ordered a different beverage this time – a chai latte. Hot, naturally. It was on my mind, those exact spices. The spices, the flavors, the _flavor-feel,_ the cashmere _._ The beautiful creamy brown hue. It was all on my mind, and I wanted it in my nose and on my tongue again. During the day. While awake.  
  
Raila hadn’t spoken to me since that night at Quark’s, when I knew she’d figured out who my fucker was. I didn’t think she had been avoiding me. We just hadn’t had occasion to speak yet. But she saw me and joined me at my table.  
  
“Agathe! Good morning!”  
  
I think _she_ brings the brightness to the public area. She’s a happy person.  
  
“Okay so don’t worry, Telara knows nothing, okay? She didn’t put it together. She was too busy feeling horrified that Gul Dukat was on the station at all.”  
  
_did we HAVE to talk about Gul Dukat over breakfast? Or, whatever this was? Coffee? No, not coffee. Chai…chai latte…this beautiful spice and cream and light darkness, dark lightness…sipping…sweet…sweet…creamy in my mouth…_  
  
“Agathe? Are you listening?”  
  
“Huh? Oh. Yeah. Sorry. It’s early. Still waking up.”  
  
“Okay, good. We need to talk. Agathe, I’m pretty sure I know, but…just tell me…that _was_ you on the balcony with him, wasn’t it? _You_ were his ‘lady friend’ that night?”  
  
“I wasn’t his ‘friend’, Raila.” _Okay, I knew I’d been crying a lot lately, but this was the earliest time of day that I could remember tears ALREADY springing to my eyes, goddammit._  
  
“You mean it wasn’t you? Or…is this like when you said you ‘didn’t sleep’ with him?”  
  
“I didn’t sleep with him and I wasn’t his friend.” A tear rolled. Shit. SHIT. _Why?_  
  
Raila stopped speaking as she parsed my meaning. Suddenly it occurred to me that I really wanted to set part of the story straight.  
  
“Oh my God, Raila – it wasn’t like Quark said, it wasn’t like that! I didn’t… _DO_ …the things Quark said that – _he_ – begged for. He didn’t actually beg for those things.”  
  
Raila wasn’t mad about it anyway. Her eyes were shining. She seemed perfectly okay with this subject.   
“So you _weren’t_ licking him and sucking him?”  
  
“Well…”  
  
“Come ON, Agathe! _At least tell me if you licked him and sucked him_. I’m dying here! Tell me tell me!!!”  
  
“Why, do _YOU_ want to lick him and suck him?”  
  
_“NO!_ But it’s so much fun to think about! Admit it! You have to! Come on. GUL DUKAT. On the balcony. _Being licked and sucked while begging for it._ Agathe. That is SO HOT. _Please_ tell me that’s what you were doing.”  
  
“ _Are you insane?_ ”  
  
“No! I’ve just heard about him! I’ve _seen_ him. He’s, you know, geez – if _ANY_ fucking Cardassian is lickable and suckable, it’s _Gul Dukat_. If you had him you are a _goddess_ , Agathe, _a goddess._ That _is_ the word you humans use, isn’t it?”  
  
She actually licked her lips.  
“Especially if you had him _on the balcony.”_  
  
_oh my GOD what the fuck Raila, are we like from two different planets or something?_  
  
“Okay, um…I guess I…I guess I sort of ‘had’ him, then. On the balcony. I _did_ lick him and suck him.”  
  
“ _AAAAAAAH!!!!,”_ she squealed.   
  
A few people glanced at us. She lowered her voice.  
  
“Agathe. Honey. For how long now, _for how long,_ have I been telling you to _get out there_ and have some fun _?_ Haven’t I _told_ you that you can have anyone you want? _Now will you listen to me?_ I cannot _BELIEVE_ you had – “ she whispered his name now, “ _Gul Dukat_ – as your fucker. You went from _zero to Gul Dukat_ , Agathe. I wish I could tell Telara. UGH, this is the worst best secret. She would DIE! But then she would never get over it.”  
  
She gasped, suddenly remembering something.  
  
“Agathe! _Did you see him again?_ Did you see him that night when Quark was talking to us? He said Gul Dukat was _here_ – said he was ‘ _looking for someone again’ – wink wink –_ remember?“  
  
I don’t know why, but I didn’t want to tell her. I didn’t want to tell her he’d come to my quarters and he’d been kind of…mean…and then kind of…fatherly…and then kind of…apologetic…and then absolutely fucking hot…and then absolutely mind-blowing…and then an absolute fucking fucking god who’d slapped and pounded me as hard as I wanted, as hard as hard as hard as I fucking wanted, because he _loved_ me, he _owned_ me, and he’d fallen asleep on my back and he’d felt so _good_ and I’d felt so _done_ and so _safe_ and so _warm_ and I could have died and gone to heaven like that – but then he’d woken me up with kisses and more – he’d opened my thighs and pushed more of his love into me as I’d slept and dreamed of _Julian_ –   
  
_Julian_  
  
_oh, Julian_  
  
I gazed into my mug of chai and hedged. I answered her partially, with truth but only some truth.  
  
“I was sitting with Julian that night.”  
  
_“Ohhhh_ ,” she breathed, _“that’s right._ I saw you with him. I saw you crying. Agathe, what was wrong? He was holding your hands, I saw that too. What was that all about?”  
  
_what had that been about?_  
  
_It had been about Julian, how I’d made him touch me like he shouldn’t have, how I’d tried to apologize to him for making him touch me like that, how he hadn’t let me, he wouldn’t let me take the blame for anything at all after what Dukat did to me, he had set me free from obligation to him, he’d told me I didn’t make him feel what he felt for me, what he felt for me…what he felt…what did he feel…did he feel something…his body did, but did he? Did he?_  
  
“It was about Dukat. He thinks Dukat…he thinks Dukat forced himself on me.”  
  
“Oh. But – he didn’t, did he? Did – _did_ he force himself on you? _Did he hurt you?_ Is that why Julian knows about it? _Oh, Agathe!_ ”  
  
“No, no…oh, it’s complicated, Raila. It’s really – it’s really confusing. Look, I _liked_ it. That part’s simple. The confusing part is how it even started. I didn’t start out wanting him. I started out sort of scared of him. And then I was angry with him, because of Justin. And then he…kind of hurt me – I mean he _really_ hurt me – but he didn’t _know_ he was hurting me. In Ops. He was just coming on to me really hard. It was this crazy mix. It was scary but it was also, like, exhilarating. It really messed me up. But then he found me later that night and he came on _really really strong_ and I just gave in, I fucking gave in. He was _magnetic_ , he was _desirable,_ Raila. And then he took me away with him and…oh my god he fucked me so good. And then I wanted more of him, more, more, _more._ ”  
  
I couldn’t believe I told her all that. But I did. It was done. I’d told her.  
And I kept telling her.  
  
“And I went to Julian, too. Because Dukat hurt me. I went to Julian, and…”   
My tears returned. They welled in my eyes. I couldn’t carry my burden any longer.  
  
“ _Oh Raila, I want Julian…”_  
  
I pressed my fingers to my eyes and wept softly. I couldn’t help it.   
  
_“I’m in love with him_. I’ve been trying to deny it for so long, and I _can’t_ any longer. I want to know him better, know him _more_ , but I don’t think I’m good enough for him. I don’t think he would want me anyway. He’s so good to me but he feels so unattainable. I feel like I _love_ him, I’ve _always_ felt like I love him – but I don’t want to _know_ that, if I can’t have him – _it kills me_.”  
  
“Agathe, what is it you say all the time – _‘holy shit’_ – that’s it – _holy shit Agathe,_ you don’t see it, honey, _you just don’t see it_.”  
  
_that’s what Julian said to me_  
  
I didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about. I looked at her just like that, like I didn’t know what the actual _fuck_ she was talking about.  
  
“Agathe, this is _crazy_. Why do you always think no one would want you? Seriously. Agathe. Look. First of all, let me tell you something about Gul Dukat, okay? Are you listening?”  
  
“I guess so. What?”  
  
“Agathe, Gul Dukat goes for _beautiful women._ Just – _just think about that_ for a minute. Really think about it. He has a weakness for _beautiful women._ If you take nothing else from your experience with him, at least know you caught his eye for a _reason_.”  
  
_I hadn’t worn makeup that night…the night he’d taken me…no smoke and mirrors…I hadn’t tricked him – not even a padded bra, no bra at all…it was just me…he’d seen ME…no this was too weird_  
  
“You have to stop thinking you don’t look good enough, Agathe. Besides, that’s not even what’s so great about you anyway. You’re funny, you’re smart, you’re _caring_. And you clearly don’t see how Julian looks at you. But _I’ve_ seen it.”  
  
She sighed impatiently.   
  
“Listen, I’m just saying – at the very least – you look _good_ , Agathe – you really do. I wish you’d believe it. I love you, Agathe. I want you to _see_ yourself.”  
  
_She’s so good to me, like a sister. And she said she loves me. She wouldn’t make fun of me if I said I love her too._  
  
“Okay, and what he _did_ to you? Gul Dukat? Sounds like he turned you inside out. Agathe, the man is _known for that._ That’s _exactly what he does._ Women fall for him, they can’t help it. It’s never happened to me, but I’ve heard enough about him to know. He chooses a woman and she falls deeply, madly, _crazily_ in love with him – but in the end she winds up hating him – or even dead maybe – she wishes she’d never met him, never known him. He _hurts_ women, Agathe. He loves them and hurts them. It never ends well. He can’t love a woman like she needs him to. It _feels_ like he loves her, but he _can’t_ love her _._ He can’t provide that. He’s like a beautiful sky over a parched land – a sky brimming with luscious dark rain clouds, dark and full of promise – but never raining _enough_ , never _deeply raining,_ never _truly_ watering the land.”  
  
Well _damn_ if that wasn’t poetic. What’s she doing at the dabo table? I told you she’s sharp. Shit. She nailed it. Holy fucking shit.  
  
“I hope you never see him again, Agathe. _Because I don’t want you to fall in love with him._ ”  
  
_oh my god. she’s right. I know she’s right._  
  
_He mind-fucks me out of my mind. God help me._  
  



	5. Heart

  
So Raila had given me a lot to think about yesterday. That must be why I had a _fucking hell_ of a dream last night...  
  
I don’t even know if I can share this one with you.  
  
  
  
I thought I was done with the floor in Ops. Seriously.   
  
No, I _am_ done with it. I’m okay with it. It’s really okay now. Dukat…well, he really licked it away. He may not have understood, but he apologized. He apologized the way I needed him to.   
Whatever he’d left inside me that day – that insidious _something_ which had caused my soul to itch – he’d returned to me and taken it out, taken it back.   
He’d licked me and washed me and _loved_ me the way I needed to be loved _for just right then, just that time_ , to heal the wound he’d left in me, to apologize for it and own it again.   
  
I was okay.  
  
  
  
But _SHIT –_ my dream!  
  
  
  
Back on the floor in Ops.   
  
When my fucking god had wielded his fingers on me the first time, with his strong hand, his strong arm, his heat, his power, his command, his mastership, his _ownership_ – that day –   
  
Oh god I wrote the _truth_.  
  
I’d wanted him to bend me over naked and fucking _hit_ me, fucking _slap_ me, slap everything good and holy and true out of me.   
I’d wanted him to slap me _hard_ , slap me _raw_ , fuck me _up_ , _hit me hit me hit me HARD_.   
Then I’d wanted him to shove himself into me and fuck me _brutally_ , force me and pound me, _and pound and pound and pound_ and _DO_ me like no one else could, just _HAVE_ me and _DO_ me and _OWN_ me and _FINISH_ me and _END_ me.  
  
Which of course I’d wanted from him again _later_ , once he’d apologized to me and made me feel loved and safe and warm…  
  
It felt fucking _hot_ to be owned by someone I trusted.   
It felt sweet to me.  
  
But I digress. The dream.  
  
_He pounded me in my dream!_ I was back on the floor, no one could see, just as it had been, that day.   
No one knew, no one heard, no one saw.   
  
I was naked on the floor, on my elbows and knees, crying, begging – no, not begging – _he was already pounding me,_ I didn’t need to beg for it – he was already inside me, so GOOD and so IN me.  
  
_oh it was hard it was good it was sick it was wrong_  
  
_wrong wrong wrong but good good good, hard hard hard_  
  
And just like when he pounded me on my bed – no _before_ he pounded me on my bed – when I was sucking him and he was licking and kissing and fingering me – again his fingers made me want him to _pound_ me, that’s how it started again –   
  
I had wanted his treasure so bad, _so bad, SO BAD_ – I’d wanted _MORE_ of his treasure – _more, more –_ I’d wanted his treasure in my mouth while he _pounded_ me with it too – logic quicksand – sweet agony – gracious torture – _his treasure his treasure his treasure_ –   
  
  
  
In my dream I heard the voice, I heard my hero, my shield – _his beautiful voice_ – “ _DUKAT!”_ – he sang, _“DUKAT!”_  
  
  
  
But it _had to be_ , Gul Dukat _had_ to fuck me in Ops, to pound me. It was right, it was good, it was true, in my dream.   
  
Julian doesn’t stand in the way of goodness and truth. It had to be, _it had to happen_. I wanted it but it hurt – but it was _good_ but it hurt.  
  
It hurt my heart, it hurt my heart.  
Julian comes for me when my heart is hurting.  
  
Julian was there for me now, with his goodness.   
He knelt before me and offered his goodness.  
He held it for me, held it to my lips.   
_“This will heal your heart, Agathe. Take it. Suck it. You’ll be okay.”_  
  
I breathed his sweet spice and knew he spoke truth.   
I took him into my mouth, I held him, I sucked him. I just let it be, _let it be._  
  
He stroked my hair with his other hand.   
I feel loved when he strokes my hair.  
  
He loved me and I loved him, with my lips, with my tongue.  
I loved him in my mouth.  
He shielded my heart, he protected me.  
  
Dukat – behind me, pounding – just did what he does, what he always does, what he had to do.  
He was who he just has to be.   
  



	6. Speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> _I know we can COME together_  
>  _but the question is_
> 
> _will we ever EVER?_
> 
> _together_  
>  _you and me_
> 
> _I want your LOVE_  
>   
> 

  
“No, not those leggings, Agathe. The green ones. Go change into the _green_ ones. I’m not leaving with you until you do.”  
  
_the fuck?_  
  
“What the hell, Raila?” I laughed. “Why the fuck do you care what leggings I’m wearing?”  
  
Seriously, this was incomprehensible to me. We were just going to the holosuite, like we always do, to play some ball. Play ball, get sweaty, come back, clean up, get dressed, go to Quark’s, get a drink, sit around. That is, I – the off duty person, would get the drink and sit around. Raila and Telara would get all – _hot_ – get all fucking gorgeous, and go work the dabo table.  
  
But now she wanted me to change my leggings. Telara was apparently waiting for us in the holosuite today, instead of coming to my quarters to get me – Telara was waiting, and Raila wanted me to change clothes.  
  
“I just want you to wear the ones that show off your ass.”  
  
_“What?!” Again, the fuck?_  
  
“The _green_ ones, you dolt. They make your ass look _sweet_. Go put them on.”  
  
Nope, that cleared up exactly nothing. She would need to explain herself better than that. I was still laughing. This was so weird.   
  
“Raila, _why the fuck_ do you care if my ass looks ‘sweet’ today? I’m not changing until you tell me.”  
  
“ _Because!_ When I walk around on this station, I want to be seen with a _hot woman_. It makes me look hotter if I keep hot company.”  
  
“You are _so full of shit,_ Raila. _YOU_ are the fucking hotness in this equation. You _know_ that. Oh my _god._ Have you _SEEN_ your tits. I shouldn’t walk next to _YOU_. I can’t afford to!”  
  
“Agathe, I would gladly exchange three-quarters of my tits for your tight little ass. _Go put on the fucking leggings._ ”  
  
_Okaaaay…guess she’s serious…if I want to get out of here I’d better go put on the fucking leggings._  
  
Actually, they _do_ make my ass look good.  
  
But _who cares?_  
  
  
  
  
  
_Ohhhhhhhhhhh_  
  
  
  
  
_My God._  
  
  
_They’re setting me up._  
  
  
  
  
They brought Julian. _They brought Julian._  
  
  
  
They invited _Julian_ to come play with us, to make us an even number, a pair of pairs. _They invited Julian._ I walked into the holosuite and thought my heart would stop. I could feel my face get hot and turn red. _Holy shit_.   
  
Raila! This was all Raila’s doing, oh my God. No – Telara was in on it too. That’s why she’d waited here for us, with Julian. She’d seen me crying with him at Quark’s, when she’d miraculously looked past Dukat and failed to notice _him,_ the man she hated, in the flesh. Whew! That had been close.  
  
Well, it didn’t matter anyway. Here was Julian.  
  
I was afraid to play with him! I get fucking competitive. I didn’t want to be an asshole, not _now._ But then again – I haven’t played when my heart is weak and my knees are jelly. I was probably going to suck. That wouldn’t be good _either –_ I didn’t want to suck at this in front of _Julian!_ What the hell was I going to _do?_ How would I _survive? Who the hell thought this would be a good idea? Shit!_ Oh my God. The nerves.  
  
And his lips, his fucking lips. _Oh, my God._ Now that I’d finally stopped trying to convince myself I didn’t want him – _ohhhhhhh_ I was going _down,_ I was _sinking_ , I was _done for_ , I was _ruined._ I do want this man.   
Oh my God I want this man.   
Help me _hard_ , I want this man.  
  
I couldn’t play. I wouldn’t be able to! I had to get out of it. Somehow get out of it. Say I had cramps. Anything.  
  
But I didn’t _want_ to get out of it. He was _here_. How could I – how could I _not_ be here too? He was _here._ Look at him. _Look at him._ God, he’s gorgeous. Shit. _SHIT._  
  
My friends are good. They saw I was frozen. They got it, they understood. I love them. I really do.   
  
“We’re going first! One of you two will play the winner.” Raila decreed.   
  
Okay, great. Julian and I sat on the bleachers together.  
  
Okay but now what. My conversational crutches were over there playing springball. I was sitting here next to the longing of my life. No pressure. No pressure at all. _Fuck_.  
  
“Agathe, it’s so good to see you,” he opened.  
  
_just answer him_  
  
“It’s good to see you too!”  
  
_fuuuuuuck_  
  
“Do you really play every week? I had no idea! I would have joined you a long time ago, had I known. I’m so happy you invited me!”  
  
_not sure I heard you – your eyes are so beautiful – they drown everything out – they drown me – they’re drowning me now –_  
  
“Well, of course!” Yes, this _had_ been my own brilliant fucking idea. “I’m sorry we didn’t think of it sooner. I should have, at least. I’ve seen you play.”  
  
“Oh! I didn’t know you’ve seen me play.”  
  
“Yeah, I have.”  
  
_dying how do people DO it? how do they TALK to each other? how the FUCK?_  
  
“You know, I heard you tell a story once…”   
  
I was aware that these words left my mouth. Where I was going with them, I had no fucking clue. I just opened my mouth and words fell out. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to die of not being able to talk to the longing of my life. So words fell out.  
  
“Oh?” he waited, seemingly interested.  
  
_ok here we go, just…um…move forward with it, nothing to be done now but move forward with it open your mouth speak words_  
  
“About an exam? About a _pre-ganglionic fiber_ …”  
  
He cringed and covered his face with his hands. _“Oh no no…no Agathe…not that story…please…”_  
  
I giggled bravely. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to retell it! I just remember feeling your pain. I never told you. I thought about telling you. Because I did something like that too, in school.”  
  
He peeked at me with a dubious eye. Sorry, I mean a goddamned _beautiful_ dubious eye.  
  
“You did? What did you do?”  
  
I rolled my eyes at myself. “Well, the stakes weren’t anywhere _near_ as high for me as they were for you, so don’t be mad at me, okay?”  
  
“ _Mad_ at you? I could _never_ be mad at you!” Now he drowned me in both his beautiful eyes.   
  
_How was my brain going to work at all now? Just kill me._  
  
_speak words, more words. maybe it’ll go somewhere._  
  
“I mean, it was just a quiz. My second year of calculus. But it was the _first_ quiz. And I already had a crush on the teacher. So I wanted to…I don’t know… _prove_ myself? Which is dumb. What do you prove by solving math problems on a quiz? But I can get _fixated_ on the stupidest little things…”  
  
Now he relaxed and started to laugh. “I know just what you mean! Sometimes the smallest details seem so important when you’re trying to impress someone, and then you stumble over yourself and feel like you know nothing at all – and then you open your mouth and prove it and make it worse…”   
  
If you’re reading this, you have to understand he has the most goddamned beautiful accent when he speaks. His words flow melodiously like angel song, whatever he’s saying. He could read the citations in a medical journal aloud and you would weep for their beauty. You would. I love his voice, it _slays_ me.  
  
I laughed again. It helped me, laughing with him.   
  
“Yeah, that’s exactly what happened – I stumbled over myself and wrote dumb shit on the paper. But you’re not going to think it’s funny, it’s too dumb. Seriously. So dumb. I probably shouldn’t have brought it up.”  
  
“No, I want to know! What did you do? You have to tell me now!”  
  
“I’m telling you, it’s _dumb_. But okay. Very first quiz, very first problem. It had a _trig function_ in it. Just a simple trig function. But I did some crazy-ass multiplication with it because I saw parentheses and apparently thought, oh – _multiply_ , right? _I don’t even know what the hell I could have multiplied!_ ” My last sentence staggered out through my self-conscious laughter.  
  
He was laughing even harder now. That was a good sign. I mean, this story was _dumb_ , as I said.  
  
“It was _so embarrassing_ when the teacher handed the quizzes back. Because of course it was obvious to me _after_ the fact. Like a…I don’t know…like a hole in the ground. But in the moment, during the quiz, it’s like my _brain shut off_. And I didn’t even _know_ it was shut off! I felt mortified. I didn’t know how it had happened. Just _parentheses_. They threw me off. I felt like I should go back and repeat a few years of mathematics. I felt… _remedial_.”  
  
He was still laughing. “Agathe, that’s not a dumb story! I completely relate to it. You actually make me feel…a little bit _better_ …about the pre-ganglionic fiber and the post-ganglionic nerve. I never know what to say about it – _I didn’t actually mix them up._ How could I have confused them? They’re nothing alike! I don’t _begin_ to know how to explain why it happened. I just know it _did_ happen. It’s…I don’t usually like to think about it…”   
  
“Agathe!” Telara was calling to me. “You’re up! You’re playing me!”  
  
I found that my legs worked now – I could get up. I could move. I could walk. I could play! I wasn’t frozen anymore.   
  
Wow _,_ at least that stupid quiz was good for _something_.  
  
  
  



	7. Fall

  
My friends and I never play wearing helmets. We trust the safety protocols in the holosuite – we trust that somehow we play in no danger of getting nailed in the face with a ball. Don’t ask me how that works – that’s not the kind of programming I’m good at. I don’t care how it works, it just works.  
  
We _may,_ however, have wanted to consider protecting ourselves against…a _male_ …body? That is, _Raila and Telara_ may have wanted to consider it. It hadn’t been _my_ idea to include Julian. I’m nearly as tall as he is, but his body is composed of much more _muscle_ than mine. He’s denser than he looks. He’s strong. I learned that. I learned that when he slammed into me and knocked me to the floor. I went down hard, and he landed on top of me, awkwardly. I think he felt bad about that.  
  
Do you know that time stops when you fall backward to the floor – maybe a _little_ concerned about hitting your head – but _more_ concerned with the fact that _the longing of your life_ is falling right on top of you? Exactly how you’ve always wanted him, which is to say _hot? Sweaty? Breathing hard?_ Sporting _dark wetly-curled hair?_  
  
Time stops and everything is fucking weird.  
  
I _had_ been concerned for my head while falling, just enough that I’d managed to contract my abdominals as I fell, controlling and slowing the whipping of my head to the floor. My head was okay. My brain was _fucked_ , with Julian on top of me, but my head was okay.  
  
He hadn’t known that, though. He knelt next to me – I blushed to myself, he was kneeling exactly as he had in my dream, on my bed, with Dukat – he knelt near my head and put his hands on it, asking me questions – _how many fingers_ , stuff like that – and I wanted to tell him _look Julian I’m going to be dumb right now, you just fell on top of me and you smell exactly as I always imagined you did, your sweaty fragrance is nectar of the gods to me – I know that makes no sense, who drinks sweat, who drinks fragrance? – see – I’m crazy for you, I’m nuts for you – I don’t know what fingers are anymore and I don’t think I can count higher than – like – two? You and me? Together? Two…_  
  
I sat up. He thought I was moving too quickly.   
No Julian, I’m fine, _I’m fine._  
  
Oh, arguing with _the doctor_ , when has that ever worked out for anyone _…_  
  
He took my arm in his – his hot sweaty arm – and walked me to the bleachers to sit with Raila while he played a set with Telara.   
  
That worked for Raila. She sat ready to bubble over in righteous excitement as soon as Julian was out of earshot again.  
  
_“I saw him, Agathe,_ ” she hissed, “ _he was checking out your ASS the entire time you were on the court!”_  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fell down backwards once, in 8th grade. And Brandon - _the longing of my young life_ \- Brandon fell right on top of me. He was a little taller than me. He had developed early - his body was dense, muscled. His skin was light darkness, dark lightness. His eyes were beautiful. He was intelligent.
> 
> _oh my God..._


	8. Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gul Dukat, I love you.  
> I wanna hold you forever, babe.
> 
> You’re beautiful.  
> You’re everything.
> 
> I wanna treasure you so bad, sweetie.  
> I get on my knees for you.
> 
>   
> _Coupe! Coupe vite!_
> 
> _Je t’aime..._  
>  _Je t’aime..._  
>  _Je t’aime..._  
>  _Je t’aime..._
> 
> _Je t’aime..._  
> 

  
This was different. _I was different._  
  
I stood before the full-length mirror in my quarters. I didn’t exactly recognize myself.   
  
I almost wondered again if I had somehow crossed into a parallel dimension – as when I’d cuddled into Dukat’s side as he slept, that night on his ship. That night when I’d lovingly watched him sleep, feeling as though I’d crossed into a parallel dimension of serenity.  
  
Julian had said he would look for us at Quark’s tonight. We were all to go our separate ways, clean up, get dressed, return, meet up again. Do our usual. Dabo. Enjoy drinks. Stand around, sit around, talk. I don’t know. Be there. I’m not used to _planning_ anything. I just go. I don’t _expect_ to see anyone, find anyone, meet anyone in particular.   
  
Tonight was different. Julian would look for us. That changed everything.  
  
On a daring-to-hope whim, I’d dropped into Garak’s shop before returning to my quarters to shower and get ready to go out again. I’d had this impulsive notion to see if he had anything – _different –_ for me to wear. I felt like expressing myself differently, or perhaps representing myself differently…  
  
Fuck, I use too many stupid words all the time.   
  
What I _mean_ to say is, sometimes a woman has too many clothes and nothing to wear. It happens when she expects to meet up with a guy that she likes. It’s…it’s an emotion in the panic family. You know the feeling, I’m sure. Nothing I owned would work for me tonight. I knew it in my gut.  
  
Garak actually _had_ something for me! His Cardassian face glowed with unflappable certainty. I loved his air of confidence – I found it genuine, endearing.   
  
He said, “ _I have just the dress for you.”_  
  
I took one look at it and knew it was right. I didn’t even need to try it on.   
  
I looked at him and felt I would cry. I paid him – I paid for the dress, I bought it.   
But it felt like a gift. I couldn’t say why. It just felt like he _knew_ something.  
  
And I knew it was right, this dress. It made me feel like even _Garak_ saw me. Garak saw me and… _regarded me with thoughtfulness._ He considered which article of clothing would show me off, would flatter me. I felt _seen_ and well-treated. I don’t have a better word for it. It was _kind_. He was kind to me.  
  
I didn’t think before I did it – I took his shoulders and held him and kissed his cheek quickly, two kisses, three – before I could cry. I knew I’d cry as soon as I would turn away from him and hurry from his shop, hurry out onto the Promenade, hurry to my quarters to change.   
  
It may have been his Cardassian cheek. I couldn’t know when the time would come again, when I would sweetly kiss a Cardassian man’s cheek.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
The dress was amazing. Perfect. I felt excited looking at myself in it, and I was only the person _wearing_ it.   
  
It’s green – a deep olive green, a light enough shade to see that it’s _green_. A simple but flattering cut, a cut for _me_. Short but not slutty. Sleeveless. Low cut enough to show skin and be sexy, but not so low as to highlight what’s missing. It shows off my shoulders. It’s made of a fabric that pleasingly skims my body. In fact I took off my panties. Didn’t want lines. Needed a bra though, otherwise I’d be pointing at everyone – _awkward._ Plus it gives me a little more bustline to balance my proportions. I like my body to look like things _fit_ , like my shape makes _sense_. A bra helps with that.  
  
I slipped on a pair of black heels.   
Now I was even taller. Wouldn’t be looking _up_ to Julian. Oh well, couldn’t be helped. The dress called for heels.  
  
I’m not curvy – I know I’ve established that detail by now.   
  
I’m not curvy, but I’m…what am I…? Tall? ‘Striking’ – yes, I’ve heard people use that word. Statuesque. Leggy. My ass is good, I’ll give myself that. And I do have a female shape. My waist to hip ratio – it’s recognizably female. Even nice. Not dramatically so – I’m not an hourglass. But my belly is tight. Smooth. Flat. Beautiful. I like it. My skin is soft. My arms are slender and shapely.   
  
This is so boring, isn’t it?  
  
Let me try again. Hey, it’s a journal after all.  
Right? It’s _my fucking journal._  
  
Okay.  
  
It’s almost hard to write this, even for myself. But I feel like I should report it, document it – it was _significant_ how I felt, looking in the mirror after I’d slipped on the dress and the shoes.   
  
No – fuck, it _is_ hard to write this. Not _‘almost hard’_. _‘For sure’_ hard.   
  
Why can’t I just write it?   
  
Okay, I’m going to just write it.   
  
What I’m struggling to write is this: _I looked good._  
  
  
  
_I FUCKING LOOKED GOOD._  
  
  
  
If I had said I didn’t see it, I’d have been lying.   
I looked _good_. Hands down.   
  
Garak – _Eros_ – had known what he’d been doing.   
_I’d kissed Eros, the sweetheart._  
  
I couldn’t believe I looked this way. I just didn’t even know _how_ that was me in the mirror. I felt so excited. I wanted Julian to see me this way. I felt sexy. _I felt fucking sexy._  
  
I realized I could see what Raila told me _Dukat_ had seen.  
  
My fucker had told me I was beautiful. My fucker who is never wrong. He had flat-out told me. I remember reading in his eyes – along with the sweet menace – that he wasn’t _lying_ to me. He was just telling me what he saw. He didn’t know what that _meant_ to me.   
  
Funny how easily I could accept it from _his_ eyes, from _his_ lips, but only from his.  
  
_Why?_  
  
Was it because I felt like a different person with him?   
He called me _Agat…_  
  
I mean I _know_ that’s only a distinction on the page, in this journal, in my written accounts. ‘Agat’ sounds no different from ‘Agathe’.   
  
But I didn’t _feel_ like ‘Agathe’ with Dukat.  
I felt like his sexy little _Agat._  
  
He gave me _Agat_.  
  
I get it now, why you said I should journal!  
  
I wrote that he’d given me orgasms. _What had the fucker given me?_ I wrote. _Orgasms. Fucking dizzying orgasms._  
  
Sure, he gave me those. Sure he did. _Oh my god, did he give those to me._  
  
But that’s not what he _really, truly_ gave me.  
  
He gave me _myself._  
  
_He showed me myself._ He looked inside me, he _saw_ , he saw _everywhere, everything._ He reached deep inside me and _found_ me and took me and _loved_ me and held me and _affirmed_ me and fucked me and _knew_ me.  
  
He hadn’t thrown me away.  
  
I mean, he’d left me skinned that one time. But…I think he’d just been… _insensitive_ , maybe? I don’t think he’d had any idea that I felt ‘skinned’. He probably thought I was just fine with myself. Hell, I was the kind of girl who peeled her shirt off at his command. Just like that. How shy could I be? Right? He hadn’t known.   
  
He hadn’t seen a problem, a defect, a throwaway. He’d _chiseled me and shown me my own beauty,_ I wrote. As he’d fondled my delicate breasts, as he’d looked in my eyes and shown me he wanted me.   
  
God damn it, he’d fucking worshipped my breasts so ardently I’d had to give them to Julian!   
  
_he’d given me Agat and sent me to Julian…_  
  
He hadn’t thrown me away.  
He’d set me free. As _Agat._  
  
He’d made me feel like a wildcat.   
He’d made me feel so _good_.   
  
And he’d glowed for me and groaned when I made _him_ feel good.   
He’d breathed my name, he’d sighed and moaned, he’d kissed me and filled me and held me. He’d slayed me with his passionate drops of sweetness, he’d warmly cleaned me off, and _he’d slept on top of me_.   
  
He’d treated me like I was _desirable,_ always desirable. Fuckable. Absolutely fuckable. To _him_ I was fuckable. I never worried about my body with him, after the first time I bared my breasts to him. When he fucked me so good.   
  
I felt _hot_ when he fucked me so good. His hot little Agat.  
  
I _am_ hot little Agat. Tall – yes, but…  
  
Well, let’s say this – _Agathe_ is tall, and _Agat_ is little and hot, and together – she’s _me_.  
  
Gul Dukat gave her to me. He found her, saw her, loved her, and gave her to me.   
He did that.   
  
God damn it, I love him. I’ll _always_ love him.  
  
And I’ll never forget the sweet touch of father love he gave to me. When I needed it. On his thighs.  
I’m crying. You can’t see it, but I’m sitting in my chair crying.   
  
I hope he has someone to give him daughter love.   
I want someone to love him.   
  
I don’t know who he is, but whoever he is, he’s _in there._  
He’s Gul Dukat, and I love him.  
  


_I love you, my dark and glowing god…_  
_I love you…_  
_I love you…_  
_I love you…_

I love you.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did cry for Dukat. Sitting in my chair. I also cried for him the next day, walking around my house. I cried for him while attempting to start writing the next chapter. I even went to the park for fresh air and sunshine - and cried for Dukat. 
> 
> Readers, he touched me. He got inside me. I think he mind-fucked me. My soul itches for him. I wish he could lick me all better.
> 
> He hurt me every time he ‘loved’ Agathe. Oh, he hurt her/me. He left her/me parched, like the land under the luscious dark rainclouds - he was dark, he was powerful, _she/I felt LOVED_ \- but he left her/me _dying, dying, dying - oh it hurt, it hurt..._
> 
> If it’s this hard for me to let go of Gul Dukat, how much harder will it be for our angsty heroine?
> 
> Infinitely harder. Possibly...well, what’s greater than infinite?
> 
> Agathe may know better now, she knows what he is. 
> 
> But _Agat...ooh..._ Achilles’ Heel comes to mind... _look out Agat, hot little Agat...look out for Dukat..._


	9. Respect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>  _in my life there's been heartache and pain_   
>  _through the clouds I see love shine_
> 
> _I wanna know WHAT LOVE IS_  
>  _I want you to show me_
> 
> _and I wanna FEEL, I want to feel what love is_  
>  _and I know, I know you can SHOW me_  
> 

  
Julian saw me before I saw him.  
  
I hovered on the perimeter of Quark’s establishment and searched the faces inside, looking for _dark, handsome, intelligent._  
  
He was standing at one of the little tables nestled into the chaotic sphere of dabo action. Alone. By the time I spotted him, he’d already fixed his breathtaking eyes on me. They closely followed my heeled and leggy progress through the crowd in his direction. I hoped I correctly interpreted the expression on his face. It remained unchanged – rapt – as I drew closer to him, as I reached him. He stared. He didn’t speak right away. As if he’d forgotten I stood right before him. His silence wasn’t going to unlock _my_ tongue, that was for sure. _how do people do it, how do they talk?_  
  
_“Agathe…”_ he breathed, _“forgive me…”_  
  
_what the hell for?_  
  
_“…you’re exquisite tonight…stunning…I can’t…speak,”_ he laughed at himself, softly.  
  
_now you know how I feel about you_  
  
He looked infinitely touchable, already killing me softly. He wore a thin sweater, black. _I’ve always liked the look of a man in black._ Light black, soft black. Gently ribbed, textured – the soft fibers roving languorously over his body, nuzzling close to him, exploring the warm tight firmness of him, kissing his collarbones. Deepening his shadows while enhancing his hue – his creamy light darkness, his smoky dark lightness. My eyes had no words for this vision.  
  
A thought entered his mind, it unstuck him.  
  
“Come with me, Agathe.” He touched my elbow and guided me to the bar, where the area was most brightly lit. He wanted me in the light, he wanted to _see_. He looked in my eyes, examining closely.  
  
“Your dress is the exact green of your eyes,” he observed, huskily. “Your uniform has never done you justice. _I love your eyes,_ Agathe. I’ve loved them since I first saw them. I’ve never gathered the courage to tell you how _beautiful_ they are to me.”   
  
_parallel dimension_  
  
“You smell heavenly,” he continued, helplessly, “what is it?”  
  
_body lotion_  
  
I raised my fragrance to him, palm facing up. He cradled my wrist in his sensitive hands, he lifted it to his nose, he closed his eyes and inhaled. I felt the touch of his face and moved the inside of my wrist to caress him with it, to stroke him, next to his lips. At the feel of my gesture he couldn’t hold back, he turned his mouth to my wrist and pressed his lips to it and worshipped it with deep warm kisses – sweet, slow, breathing-me-in-through-his-nose kisses.   
  
I don’t know where my stomach is, anymore, since that happened. It dropped through the floor at that very moment, that moment at the bar when Julian kissed my wrist, when I felt the fullness of his lips, the scratchy shadow encircling them, when I felt his warmth, his worship, his lips, the deep presses of his lips, _oh God…_  
  
I wanted to know his fragrance too.   
  
I let my hand hold his face, the hand attached to the wrist he was kissing. My other hand demanded equal reward – I brought it to his jaw on that side. I leaned into his neck, into his dark space, his warm dark shadow. I softly touched my nose to his neck under his ear, feeling him shudder at this lightest of touches, feeling the halting flutter of his breath as I lovingly slayed him with my sweet nearness.  
  
_Ohhh,_ he smelled clean, he smelled fresh, he smelled like some kind of _man_ fragrance – something men scent themselves with after a shower or after a shave – or perhaps what they wash their hair with or spray on their bodies. I didn’t know what he had done, but I felt privileged to learn it, to feel it, to breathe it. I didn’t think it was cologne – it didn’t hit my nostrils like alcohol. Instead the fragrance emanated from his body like steaming enchantment, like misting essence – his crisp muskiness, his sweet spice. It hovered over his skin, it flavored his shadow, infusing – _enhancing_ – his darkest space, the space in his neck.   
  
I breathed my first words to him, my first of the evening, under his ear. I brushed my lips on his skin, achingly _lingering_ brushes, almost invasive enough to taste him, to learn him.  
  
_“I love how you smell too…much better than earlier today on the floor…when you lay on top of me…sweaty and hot…”_  
  
I heard a low growl in his throat. I’d never heard _anything_ like a growl from Julian before, ever, _ever_ before. At the sound of it I felt something new, something I’d never felt at any time I’d been near to him. I felt _fear_ , I felt _frightened_. Not threatened, not endangered – but a feeling belonging to the _fear_ family nonetheless.   
  
Not in my gut. It didn’t gnaw in my gut.  
My belly. It fluttered in my belly.   
  
No, not in my belly.  
Lower than my belly. _Lower._  
  
I realized he had taken my wrists, both my wrists, as he growled. He held them with…strength, with resolve, with something outside of myself – with _his_ intent, _his_ drive, _his_ purpose. He would have me _put an end_ to hiding in his neck, and instead _face_ him, _face_ the knowledge – the _tension_ – between us, acknowledge it, confront it, do battle with it, charge toward it, _act on it._  
  
My body knew it before I did – knew in my heartbeats and in the place lower than my belly – my body was compelled to know, _forced_ to know – that Julian wasn’t the kind of _safety_ my mind had made him out to be.   
  
My body perceived that he was _other_. He was a man with his _own_ impulses and desires, his _own_ responses and feelings, his _own_ intent and resolve. He didn’t exist inside of my mind. He existed _outside_ of me, in front of me, touching me, holding me. Near to me – not _of_ me. He was _other_ than me.   
  
Holding my wrists, he compelled me to _acknowledge_ him. And the desire between us – thick between us, sticky between us – it was intense, it was frightening – _electrically frightening_ – because it was the product of _two_ of us – _raised_ to the power of two – it was _uncontainable_ because it was two – it would carry out its _will_ because it was potent with the force of _two_.   
  
The knowledge pulsed high in my chest, in my throat, as I faced him – held captive by his hands on my wrists – confronting his sensuous lips, as they confronted mine – this wasn’t at all like my _hesitant march to the scaffold_ when Dukat held me captive by my arms and compelled me to lower my mouth to his neck ridge and bite. When my nose had nuzzled his ridge the first contact had undammed a _deluge of craving I hadn’t realized_.   
  
This wasn’t like that, as Julian held me, as I faced his lips. This time I _already felt_ the imminent deluge of craving, I _felt_ the dam cracking, I _knew_ it would burst at first touch, I _knew_ I’d go under – I _wanted_ to go under, I _wanted_ to be swept away, washed away – _I felt, I knew, I wanted –_  
  
But I didn’t have unilateral ownership over what I did with his lips – they didn’t exist solely for _me_ to covet, to drink in with my eyes, to trace my heart’s thumb over as if they were _mine_ – _mine_ to pull into my mind and exploit in my fantasies, _mine_ to close my eyes and envision, _mine_ to dream about kissing.   
  
I’d been _arrogant_ to think Julian existed only in my longing, in my fantasies, in my repressed desire. I’d been _arrogant_ to place him across a chasm of my own imagining, _arrogant_ to conclude he would never want me, _arrogant_ to think I knew what he thought, what he felt, what he wanted, _arrogant_ to think I had power to make him feel or not feel, _do or not do_ – _arrogant_ to think I was the only factor in this equation, that _my_ desire existed alone, that _he_ was safe, he was _safe_ , that he was the _Julian of my own making_.  
  
I’d been arrogant, and now I would repent and _respect his lips,_ respect his body, respect his heart, _respect Julian._ He _commanded_ my respect with his growl. I would _respect his desire_. He had the right to desire as well. He had the right to desire _me_ , no matter how I fought to twist reality in my mind. He had the right to be _other_ than me, to see me and _want_ me.  
  
And it scared me, if I’m to be honest. I felt the unbounded onslaught of his desire and it _scared_ me – I didn’t _know_ him, I didn’t _control_ him, he was going to _take_ me in a way I hadn’t _imagined_ , it was going to be _real_ , it was going to _happen._ I was going to step out over the chasm not knowing what would be under my _feet_ , where was my _ground?_  
  
The energy of his desire coursed in _my_ direction, from him to _me_ , not just from me to _him._ I felt wholly unprepared for this potential, this momentum – I’d never dreamed that I would ever feel the force of my longing applied to _me,_ washing over _me,_ that I would feel its impact on _me_ , feel the waves crashing into _me_ – the waves of _his wanting_ which was other than _my wanting_ but still the same, _still the same…_  
  
_Fuck, I really do think too much_.   
  
Julian’s lips began devouring mine before I could waste any more of this shimmering moment overanalyzing their meaning, their feel, their fullness, their beauty, their order, their outline, their shape, their curves, their ripeness, their warmth, their hunger, their _oh my god they were ON me, ALL OVER MY LIPS, I felt them – he kissed me, he KISSED me – I lost my shit all over again – he felt good he felt good – OH GOD HE FELT GOOD – he was kissing me, we were KISSING –_  
  
Who was I to think I could have controlled this, that I could have ‘taken’ him _MY_ way?  
  
That I could have teasingly bumped and sweetly nudged our lips together – shyly hesitating my way into our first touch, our first press, our first discovery, our first taste – at _my_ pace, at _my_ choosing, at _my_ directing?  
  
Julian had his _own_ goddamned ideas and there was no holding him back.   
  
Who the hell had I thought I _was_ – to have never considered that _JULIAN_ might fucking kiss _ME_ – that _HE_ might fucking seize the reins and _TAKE_ me and _KISS_ me, that _HE_ might do whatever he fucking _PLEASED?_  
  
_Just who the hell had I thought he was?_  
  



	10. Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> _it's playing on my mind_  
>  _it's dancing on my soul_
> 
> _it's taken so much time_
> 
> _there's little things you hide_  
>  _and little things you show_
> 
> _i've waited so long, baby_  
>  _out in the cold_
> 
> _I swear I won't TEASE you_  
>  _won't tell you no LIES_
> 
> _I want your LOVE_  
>  _I want your -_  
> 

  
_Fuck safety._ Julian was safe as always, but he wasn’t _safety_ – not with our bodies pressed together as we continued kissing, kissing, _kissing_. It _hurt_ me in the place lower than my belly, the intense twisting and flipping and knotting and _wanting_ that assailed me deep inside as I finally felt him against me – his form, his muscle, his heat, his potency.  
  
I’d known someone else in my life, in high school, a friend – a _safe safe_ friend named Jon. _A ‘J’ name like Justin, like Julian, maybe it’s a pattern._ As with Julian, Jon was _safe._ That is, he was safe until we hugged – because when our bodies connected, he wasn’t safe at all – he wasn’t safe – oh no, Jon wasn’t safe for me at all.  
  
My body told me Jon wasn’t safe, _my dreams told me_ Jon wasn’t safe – _I didn’t want him to be safe – I just fucking wanted him –_ but I repressed my desire, my body, my dreams. I wouldn’t see, I wouldn’t hear, I wouldn’t know. He became _safety_ to me – my friend – just my friend _– just Jon – it would break me if he wasn’t Jon._  
  
It would have broken me if Jon wasn’t Jon – because if he wasn’t Jon, if he wasn’t _safety_ – my body and my dreams told me I’d wind up _naked_ with him, _skinned_ with him – and then he wouldn’t want me anymore – and it would _break_ me if he didn’t want me anymore.   
  
As long as Jon was only _safety_ then he would never _want_ me and never break me.  
  
So – every time Jon and I hugged, I broke it off at the first moment I felt the surge of desire, of raging inevitability – the surge which would lead me swiftly to _skinning_ , to _naked_. I broke off the hug, I broke away from him – every time – _don’t feel his body, don’t feel his body, danger, danger_  
  
I _starved_ myself for the continuation – for the implicit destination and arrival – of my hugs with Jon. _Oh, I starved._ I’d kept dreaming of Jon even after I’d gone to the Academy and didn’t see him anymore. My body had known, my heart had known. _I’d starved myself._  
  
My body and my heart knew about Julian, too, on this station. I’d felt the pull between us since we’d met. It’s not that we hugged. We didn’t need to. When we were _near_ to each other, _looking_ at each other, _speaking_ to each other – something _pulled_ between us, it always had, since the beginning. Something electric. I guess you would call it chemistry, if you don’t use thousands of words like I do.   
  
It scared me. I didn’t want him to skin me and break me. So I tried to keep it confined to the infirmary. We could be physically near to each other in the infirmary, we could _look_ at each other, we could even _touch_ each other – but only to a limit, _only so far._ This is how I broke off our ‘hugs’. I confined them to the place where they were forbidden to continue, to advance, to live and breathe and _feed_ , forbidden to _not starve._  
  
I confined my ‘hugs’ to _the doctor_ – my eyes saw _the doctor_ , my body pulled near to _the doctor._ It didn’t matter how much I wanted _him_ – the _doctor_ wouldn’t want me, the _doctor_ wouldn’t break me. It was _safe_ to want _the doctor_ in the infirmary.  
  
But Gul Dukat had loved Agat and sent her – not to the doctor, but to _Julian_. He’d been _Julian_ that day, the day that Dukat hurt her. He’d been _Julian_ the next day, the day after Dukat had her. He’d sent her _skinned –_ not to the doctor, not to the doctor – but to Julian, _Julian._  
  
And Julian had _seen_ her skinned, _touched_ her skinned, _desired_ her skinned – _he’d broken the safety_ – she was free, she was free, she was _me_ – and now as I kissed him I no longer needed to break away from the press of my body to his, to _Julian’s_. I didn’t need to flee from the surge of inevitability which would lead us swiftly to _naked_ , to _naked together,_ to love, to passion, to _arrival._  
  
Do you know how it feels to press against a man like Julian, a man whose body is the same height as yours? In heels, that is? It feels like _sex_. If not sex, then _sex very soon._  
  
Because everything lines up. Because you feel his _belly_ , his warm hard muscled _belly_. You feel it pressed against _yours_ , and the heat and intimacy of this contact flips you upside down and around – just as if you get sucked under a ruthless wave in the ocean and lose your sense of ‘up’ as it swallows and tosses your powerless body. It flips you because his belly holds _promise,_ pressed into yours – his belly promises that this man will be _inside_ you soon, _moving inside you._ The anticipation twists you in the place lower than your belly – it _twists_ you – you want him, you want him, _you want him inside you._  
  
You feel his pectoral muscles. They feel hard, they feel warm, they feel _man._ You feel them against your breasts. You want to be overpowered. You want him to press you into a horizontal position and overpower you. That’s what his pecs do, pressed into your breasts.   
  
You feel his neck on your neck. It’s hot. His neck is hot and smooth and human and brown. _His neck has no goddamned fucking ridges and scales._ You want to _eat_ his neck. You want to bury your face in it and _feast_. It’s hot, it’s ready, it’s _right there under your mouth_ because you’re the same height as this man, _you’re on his neck._ He’s wearing a sweater. He’s not wearing the fucking turtleneck that usually shields his goddamned fucking beautiful neck from the ravenous hunger of your love, of your lips, of your _want_.  
  
You feel the _otherness_ of his hands moving over you, the _other-person wantonness_ of his hands sliding everywhere delicious on your body, exploring you, learning you, learning your neck and your arms and your back and your waist, learning the _small of your back_ , pulling you into his belly at the small of your back, _pressing_ your belly to his _at the small of your back._  
  
It feels like sex, imminent sex – he kisses you _hard_ and you kiss him hard in return – because this is all the sex you can have at the bar if you don’t take this someplace _else_ , some place where everybody isn’t watching you two make out like you’re going to fucking _do it_ right here, right now, on the bar, on the floor, somewhere, anywhere, _let’s fuck let’s fuck,_ you’re wild, you’re _blind_ with imminent sex, you don’t know where you are, you don’t _care_ where you are.  
  
I don’t know about _you_ anymore, but I’ll mention the bar – that bar – Quark’s bar – where people sit and stare at their drinks. The _feel_ of Julian pressing his belly to mine while urging mine against his, by pulling me into him with his hands at _the small of my back_ – the _feel_ of it triggered fantasy. I went into my head a little, just a little – I couldn’t help it.  
  
In my mind Julian stretched out his arms and _swept everything off_ that fucking bar. Then he lifted me onto it, onto my back, and he climbed up there _with_ me and he hiked up my dress – which worked because you’ll remember I was naked under there, _commando_ under my dress – he opened his pants like Dukat in my dream – he took hold of my legs and raised my ankles to rest on his shoulders – I saw my black heels in the air next to his beautiful face – he held my legs in his hands and he _DRILLED me so hard and so hot_ , he drilled me and _NAILED_ me, _I SCREAMED_. I screamed his _NAME_ – over and over and over, _JULIAN! JULIAN! JULIAN! –_ so that everyone, _EVERYONE_ would _hear_ and would _see_ and would _know_ that _THE DOCTOR WAS FUCKING ME_ , the doctor was _FUCKING me HARD_ on Quark’s bar, fucking me _GOOD_ and _HARD_ and _DIRTY_ on top of Quark’s bar, right on the _BAR_ – that’s right _HE’S THE DOCTOR, respect him respect him RESPECT HIM!_  
  
That’s how his hands and his belly made me feel.  
  
Quark picked up on this energy – maybe he even heard my fantasy with his sensitive Ferengi ears. Which is fine with me, Quark. I _hope_ you caught a nice unshakable aural imprint and visual image of Julian _FUCKING ME GOOD_ , up on your bar, of Julian _GIVING IT TO ME HARD_ , giving his ‘lady friend’ _everything she was begging for, EVERYTHING_ , _right out in the open, right on your bar_.   
  
Fuck you, Quark.  
  
On a regular night like tonight, his establishment was certainly not the most family-friendly sort of place. But even tonight – even downstairs near the dabo table – even at the bar – even Quark had his limits.  
  
“ _AGATHE!”_ Quark hissed like a shout, concerned for his scandalized patrons – people had gathered to watch us – “ _GET A FUCKING ROOM!”_  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK I guess I really use songs to flavor and express what I'm feeling...
> 
> What's the sound of Agathe's heart, in Julian's arms, kissing him hard?
> 
>  _I Want to Know What Love Is_ by Foreigner. 
> 
> Exactly that.


	11. Angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> _it's like having a dream_  
>  _where nobody has ...a heart_
> 
> _it's like having it all_  
>  _and watching it fall ...apart_  
> 

  
_logic quicksand_  
_how do you run to a private room to fuck each other_  
_when your bodies try to run and fuck at the same time_  
_and that is impossible to do_  
  
  
  
  
_“Shut up, Quark!”_ he’d snarled.  
But I’d agreed with the bartender this time.   
_“No…no Julian…take me to your quarters, please…take me…”_  
  
  
  
  
I’d removed my heels to run more easily…  
…and also to let Julian be taller than me when he pressed me into random walls in corridors along the way, so we could grind and _try yet again_ not to rip our fucking clothes off and start doing each other on the floor right there…  
  
Easier to stay upright when I’m so dizzy – easier when he presses me into a wall…  
…easier not to fall when I’m in his arms…  
  
  
  
  
In his quarters we made quick history of our clothes – as if we’d _always_ been naked – as if our bodies had _always_ been fully intertwined on his bed naked together. It felt like heaven to get horizontal and just join and touch and weave and hold and move our hands over each other's bodies and kiss and press and sigh and rub and be warm and _skinned_ together. I’d _longed_ for this, longed for his sweet warmth, his embrace, his goodness, his _being_ – this _freedom_ , this release. Released to _kiss_ each other, _feel_ each other, _have_ each other.  
  
I got him under me – I couldn’t get off his _chest_ at first. His chest which had always been _barred_ to me, barred by his uniform, barred by my fucking refusal to acknowledge my desire for it. I’d always imagined he’d have more hair on it. His face and his neck could get so deliciously shadowed – I had assumed his chest was shadowed too. Not so – it was luxuriously smooth. I couldn’t stop rubbing my face on him there and kissing him. I’d wanted so _much_ of Julian for so long, wanted him, wanted him – now my skin, my lips, my _tongue_ could have as much of him as they wanted. Here were his _nipples_ – I could lick them and suck them – they were cute, so _sweet_ , his nipples…  
  
_Oh my Julian, I never dreamed I could love the hidden parts of you, I want you so much, I want to lick and love ALL your hidden parts…_ I found some shadow, some hair, some soft silky shadow around his nipples. I licked the dark silk, I licked his smooth warm brown human skin, I sucked him some more – it made him gasp, it made him shudder – oh my Julian – _oh, in my mouth, in my mouth, I’m going to love you in my mouth I know it_  
  
No, he rolled me over. He wanted to savor _me_ under _him_. He wanted to hold me under him and look in my eyes and kiss me _more_ , kiss and look, kiss and look, kiss and look. _Oh, to be so near to him and wrapped in him._ He took my breath away, showing me the love in his stunning eyes and then kissing it onto my lips, loving and kissing, loving and kissing.  
  
He wanted my breasts, he wanted _my_ nipples. His hands had wandered to them while he kissed me and now he realized it. He looked in my eyes again. I could read his question. _Is it okay, is it okay?_ Almost sheepish.   
  
_“Please,”_ I breathed, _“please Julian, yes, yes, pleeeease…”_  
  
How could I _ever_ deny my body to his lips? I watched him press them to my left breast, my right, he had to choose one at a time – one for his mouth, one for his hand – I watched him kissing them, kissing, kissing, and then gently pulling on my nipples, _pulling with his beautiful lips_ – did he want me to _suffocate_ from my gasping, _TEASE_ me to death under him – _don’t kill me doctor don’t kill me this way_ – _ohhhhhhh – yes kill me kill me_  
  
I think this is what he likes to do with them, it may be a _thing_ for him, what he’d done in the infirmary at the wrong time, in the wrong place, _that one sweet wrong tug_ – teasing them, tugging them, slowly, lovingly, lingeringly – tugging tenderly, sucking sweetly – then _nipping_ with his teeth _oh god oh god – my belly – lower than my belly – flipping, twisting, ohhhhhhhh the pain, I want him so bad…_ He _loved_ my breasts, he _loved_ my nipples – so gently, so warmly – but with _bite_ , but with _sting_ – _ahhhhhh_ I began to writhe for him, what greater bliss than to lie naked and writhing under your sucking tugging biting lover…  
  
_No – not my lover, not yet, not yet_ – _but soon_  
  
I wanted to savor the anticipation for as long as possible, as long as I could. But still I wanted to _hold_ him. I wanted to hold his _goodness_ , his hard hard goodness which would soon come love me inside me. I could feel it pressing against me – lower than my belly – so full of promise, so hot, so alive, so ready. I wanted to stroke him while he sucked my breasts, my nipples. I licked my hand to make it wet and I found him and slid my hand over him to bless him, to make him feel good.   
  
_ohhhhhhh he groans like Dukat – but even more melodiously – ohhhhhh I can’t get enough of his groans, I want his angel groans inside me, I can’t wait to SWALLOW his angel groans, I can’t wait to feel him, taste him in my THROAT_  
  
He came back to my mouth and tongued me deeply while I stroked his goodness, he kissed me and loved my breasts with his hands. I wouldn’t be able to hold out on him much longer, his body’s purpose overwhelmed me in exponentially growing waves. He wanted to _take_ me, I could _feel_ it. I could feel it in the way he breathed, panting, grinding his smooth hot body over mine, how he gripped me with his hands, how he devoured me with his lips, how he moaned against my skin – he _WANTED_ me so much more than I’d ever imagined he would. I knew he wanted to _join_ himself to me, _bury_ himself in me, thrust himself, lose himself, _find_ himself in me. It wouldn’t be long now.   
  
I didn’t want to first lick him and suck him as I’d done with Dukat.  
  
I knew the _ONE_ way I wanted him first inside me, just the one way, _the one way_ I longed to feel him, above all others. I wanted him _this_ way, after that I would love him any way I could, any way he liked –   
  
  
  
_if he still liked…after he was finished…if he still wanted…_  
  
  
  
_why am I terrified and horny again – why do these two things go together for me – always together – fear and desire – fear and arousal – even with Julian, even with safe true Julian – why – why – why with Julian too – my heart is so open to Julian_  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Look, I know what you’re going to say. You said it to me when I saw you, after you had caught up with what I wrote to you. You said that what I wrote was full of _‘angst’._  
  
Here I am writing about how the longing of my life is overwhelming me with the passion of his naked desire, as he signals with his body that he’s ready to _take_ me – he wants to _enter_ me, he wants to _fuck me_ already, I’m _writhing_ for him, I’m stroking his _dick_ , he’s _panting, moaning_ , _grinding_ on me, _sucking_ me, _biting_ me, _kissing_ me, _tonguing_ me – he wants _in me, in me, in me_  
  
And then I overthink like usual and _bring everything to a halt_ and say _I’m afraid I’m afraid I’m horny but afraid_  
  
_What the hell is wrong with me?_  
  
“Angst, Agathe.” you say, “ _Angst.”_  
  
_FUCK YOUR WORD ‘ANGST’._  
  
You psychologists. _You’re_ the ones who overcomplicate it! _You’re_ the ones who take a perfectly simple word and layer on all this existential bullshit!   
  
Listen to yourself. _Angst._  
  
You’re just saying _fear_. That’s all you’re saying. _Fear._  
  
It’s one simple word, one simple emotion. From the Earth language ‘German.’   
It just means fucking _FEAR._  
_Ich habe angst – I have fear – I am afraid._  
  
I reject your word ‘angst’. It overshadows the _real_ word.   
Fear _._  
  
_Fear_. It’s basic. It’s the worm. It’s the worm in my gut. It won’t go away. It won’t FUCKING go away.  
  
  
  
It’s what I felt under Julian. Fear. _FEAR._  
It was _worse than ever_ under Julian.   
  
  
  
As I’ve said – this Julian wasn’t the safety of my repressed fantasies.  
  
He was _different_. Not drastically different. Just – just different enough to step out of my head and become _real_ and frighten me.  
  
It caught me off guard when _this_ Julian first kissed me, this Julian who wanted me more than I’d imagined he did, more than I’d _dreamed_ he did.   
  
Just that one difference between the imagined and the real – that one sweet difference – just the difference of the unanticipated _volume_ , the _magnitude_ of his desire for me – which I would have _missed_ if Dukat hadn’t sent Agat to him – just that _unexpected reality_ was enough to frighten me over the edge, over the edge into my bottomless chasm of _fear_ , where broken people fall away, fall away.  
  
This Julian was drawing too close to me. I wanted him, he wanted me.  
But what if – what if because he wanted me – what if I let him all the way in?   
What if I let him really _see_ me, really _know_ me, maybe even really _love_ me – what if I let him all the way in – and then, and then –   
  
– and then he discovered the _truth_ – what my worm tells me secretly – that I’m _truly fundamentally undesirable?_  
  
_Fuck_ , it hurts to even write that question. It’s at my _core._  
And _you’re_ the person I should write it to. You’re the person to tell.  
You’re trained to be told these things.  
And it hurts to tell even _you_.  
  
I was so afraid under Julian. And worse, and worse, I felt like even my _fear_ made me undesirable. _I feared to show my fear._ What do you call this kind of a cyclical fearful torment?   
  
  
  
Angst?   
  
  
  
_Fuck._  
  
  
  



	12. Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> _I can’t measure my love_  
>  _there’s nothing to compare it to_
> 
> _but I want you to KNOW_
> 
> _if I could fly_  
>  _I'd pick you up_
> 
> _I'D TAKE YOU into the night_
> 
> _and show you a LOVE_  
>  _like you've never SEEN, ever seen_  
> 

  
I couldn’t believe this was happening again. Sort of again. Gul Dukat had already started fucking me when I began to cry under him, remember? He’d seen my tears and asked me why I was crying, and the only thing I could tell him was _‘I want you – I want you – I want you’_. And then he’d lost his mind, told me not to cry, and started fucking _‘Nerys’_.   
  
Julian wasn’t fucking me yet, not just yet…and it wouldn’t be _hate fucking…_ and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t mix me up with anyone _else_ …and possibly he wouldn’t tell me not to _cry_ …   
  
Nevertheless, I lay _under_ him in a ready-to-fuck position, and I started to _cry_ , just as I’d cried under Dukat.  
  
_I felt like I was losing him before I could even have him._  
  
And if I was so fucked up as a person, to feel that way, then – then I’d been _right all along_ , I was too fucked up for _him._  
  
It was too much.   
Maybe you think I’m weak. But it doesn’t matter.   
I cried, and I couldn’t hide it.  
  
Of course he saw. Not like Dukat saw.   
This man _really sees._ He knows what the fuck he’s looking at.  
  
He also _cares._  
_“Agathe…”_  
  
He spoke to me between kisses, asking me what was wrong, why was I crying?  
  
The way he kissed me – I felt it was how he’d _always_ wanted to speak to me, in the infirmary, he’d _always_ wanted to kiss my face and make room in between the kisses, for his words. So warm, so tender.   
  
I could cry for hours if it meant he would keep kissing my face this way.   
_Oh, his lips._ They delivered his care like nothing else.   
His lips gave me courage to tell him what I was feeling.   
  
“You’re going to think it’s dumb.”  
_dumb like my calculus quiz_  
  
Kissing my face. “No, tell me.”  
“…no, really…it’s embarrassing…”  
  
Kisses, kisses. “Tell me. I want to know, Agathe. I want to know.”  
  
_not before I kiss him again, he’s too beautiful not to kiss._  
_have courage, kiss him – then tell him_  
  
I reached with my hands and held his face so I could kiss him on his lips, on his beautiful lips. I felt strangely unsure of how I’d even arrived here at this moment, naked under Julian, under his kisses, crying…about to bare more of myself to him… _skin myself even more…_  
  
“ _I want you, Julian._ I want you so much. I’m crying because I’m afraid that if you _know_ how much I want you, then you won’t want _me_.”   
I laughed self-consciously while crying even harder.  
My voice was so broken.   
“I told you, it’s dumb.”  
  
There was nowhere to hide from him. I didn’t want to hide from him anyway. I felt him spinning a naked hug cocoon around me – goddammit this man is perceptive and wonderful – he knows what to do. He’s never… _insensitive_.   
  
With one hand he stroked my hair at the top of my head, with the other he held my cheek, with his naked body he covered me warmly, with his beautiful lips he blessed my face, so patiently, so tenderly.   
  
I wasn’t feeling rejected yet. I felt no part of him pulling away. He stayed with me through my panic. I couldn’t know if he understood – I didn’t figure anyone could truly understand – but he knew to stay with me in this moment.   
  
_“You can cry, Agathe,”_ he whispered, between the kisses of his gentle lips. _“I won’t leave you if you cry.”_  
  
With these angel words he ended me. Maybe I _would_ cry for hours. He kept kissing my ever-more-wet face. He kissed my cheeks, my jaws, under my ears, my neck – just slow, just gentle – _just with me, just with me._ At times I kissed him back, on his lips. I felt so attracted to him. So broken, but so attracted. How could I not kiss those lips, even as I cried? How could I not need him – _yearn for him_ – inside me, _inside me? Oh God, my Julian, my Julian…_  
  
“Agathe, what you said,” as he kissed me, “I don’t think it’s dumb at all. It’s very real. I love that you feel safe enough to tell me how you feel.”  
  
He waited for me to focus on his eyes again. What gives the soft cashmere of his eyes the strength to hold so much attentiveness, so much perception, so much healing? How is he like this? He’s beautiful, there are no words. No words for this man. I try, I try to paint him with words, but he’s too beautiful – he’s _unholdable, uncontainable_ with words.  
  
“Now I know why I’ve always felt you pulling away from me.”  
_you felt that?_  
  
“I’ve had a crush on you, Agathe.” He smiled, sheepish again. “It’s my turn to feel embarrassed. I’ve admired you for a long time. Your beauty, your wit, _your sarcasm –_ you make me _laugh,_ Agathe. And you can be so sweet, so thoughtful – but with an _edge –_ I’ve always felt an _edge_ to you, a darkness – I find you _irresistible, alluring_ – but I’ve never known if I could – _if I could draw near to you.”_  
  
_that’s because I thought you shouldn’t…the chasm…it would damage you…_  
  
“Sometimes I’ve dared to wonder if you have feelings for me too. At times it seems that you do, but then you pull away, and I think I must be imagining it.”  
  
_I didn’t mean to pull away…if I had only known…if I had only known how to reach for you…_  
  
“And when you came to me after Dukat…”  
  
I closed my eyes.   
  
“No Agathe, _please…_ please show me your eyes again… _Agathe…”_  
  
I opened them.   
  
“When you came to me, I _did_ feel you reaching for me – it _did_ feel like you wanted me – but I was sure I was wrong – I _did_ dare to hope, but I knew it was wrong to hope – wrong of me to hope when you were so hurt.”  
  
_but I’m ALWAYS hurt, that’s the problem, I feel I’ll always be hurt and WRONG, that’s why Dukat makes me so angry, he’s never wrong_  
  
“Julian – Gul Dukat showed me how I really feel about you.”  
  
_how would I ever explain that…those dreams…better left in my mind…I didn’t think Julian would care to share a bed with Dukat…_  
  
He wouldn’t. I saw the curl of disgust in his upper lip.  
  
“I find that man so offensive, Agathe. But if he somehow brought you to me…I…I… ”  
  
I caressed his cheek. “Maybe it’s better if you don’t try to understand it, Julian.”   
  
He looked at me for a long series of moments. Long enough to frighten me again. _Maybe I shouldn’t have said that about Dukat…_  
  
But then he lowered his face to my neck and breathed into my ear, _“I will never stop wanting you just because you want me too.”_  
  
He kissed my neck along with these words.   
  
He was _making love_ to me with these words, with these kisses. I shuddered under him. The doctor was having me – _the doctor was having me – oh, so much better than Dukat ever could, the doctor was having me._  
  
And he was still _hard_ for me. I felt his hard goodness patiently waiting against my body as he spoke to me. _Oh, the doctor had me._ I was so his, the way he covered me and wrapped me and pressed his goodness against me, and looked deeply into my eyes with his cashmere truth and love, and spoke assurances to me with his lips, his curved lips that I wanted to suck and eat and suck and eat again and again and again.  
  
I loved being under this man.   
  
He continued making love to me with his assurances.  
  
“Look at it _differently_ , Agathe. Follow my logic. You can’t _make me_ feel things. That means you can’t _make me_ want you. And if you can’t make me _want_ you, then how can you make me _not_ want you? How can you, Agathe? What can you possibly do to make me not want you? _There’s nothing you can do…stop trying not to do what you CAN’T possibly do…stop it Agathe…let it go…let it go…”_  
  
He kissed my lips softly, he was killing me softly, he was _safe_ but not safety, I wanted him inside me, I wanted all his truth inside me, I needed him inside me, _I would break if he wasn’t Julian and wasn’t inside me._  
  
His assurances made me so wet for him. His assurances made me feel safe and when I feel safe I want to be _fucked hard_. I was so open to him, I was completely his, that’s why now I wanted him to take me so hard so hard, _have me, have me, I don’t want to have myself anymore, please take me and have me and assure me_  
  
_God damn it, I wanted him._  
  
“Do you want to fuck me, Julian?” I whispered.  
  
_oh my God I see truth in his eyes – always truth – he does, he does, he absolutely wants to fuck me, he wants to fuck me NOW_  
  
  
_“_ No… _”_  
  
  
_what? no don’t break me now_  
  
  
  
“I want to love you. _I want to love you, Agathe.”_  
  
  
I stared. Couldn’t breathe. No words. Where were my words? Find some.  
_oh God oh God_  
  
I found some.  
  
  
“Can I put my legs on your shoulders? I think I want you to love me that way.”  
He laughed. “Oh my God _yes,_ Agathe, _yes,_ anything you want, _I’ll give you anything you want…_ ”  
  
  
Oh, he had me dizzy already. He didn’t need to _fuck me_ to fuck me, I wanted him so bad. I raised my legs to his shoulders and he took them in his hands and caressed them and _kissed_ them, he loved my skin and blessed my legs. I felt his shadow scratching me, it made me feel like I would _come_ at the moment he pushed his beautiful goodness into me, his _assurance_ – _this_ was the way I wanted him first – _I would COME as soon as I felt him_ – I’d _WANTED_ him to assure me inside me _for so long, for so long, for so long_ –   
  
_OHHHHHHHH  
I wasn’t wrong I wasn’t wrong I wasn’t wrong   
OHH my JULIAN! my JULIAN! my JULIAN!_  
  
_just like this like this like this_  
_don’t stop! don’t stop! don’t stop!_  
  
ohhhhhh _fuck me HARD but this real Julian was so much MORE than I’d ever imagined he was_   
  
_so much more so much more so much more_  
  
_fuck me hard_  
_fuck me hard_  
_fuck me hard_  
  
_I feel so SAFE with you, love me hard Julian! hard Julian! HARD JULIAN!_  
_Love me SO HARD  
  
love me love me love me   
deep deep DEEP!_  
  
_oh Julian_  
_oh Julian_  
_oh FUCK ME Julian I love you I love you I LOVE YOU!_  
  
_watching his beautiful eyes through my dizzied swimming vision as he fucks me so good_  
_fucks away my ability to count – not just that_  
_fucks all the stupid CALCULUS out of me, all the trig functions, I don’t NEED that shit anymore, I’m not a doctor, not a physicist, just a programmer – that is if I can remember HOW anymore, after he FUCKS me so good and so hard_  
  
_he LOVES me so good, so good, he’s so good_  
  
Maybe as a girl, I’d wanted Apollo to tackle me – not to force his love on me, but to _stop me from running_ – so he could skin me and hug me and _hold_ me and press his _assurances_ into me, and compel me to _LET HIM LOVE ME_. I’d needed to _STOP RUNNING_ so he could LOVE me. I’d needed to _HOLD STILL_ so he could press his love and assurances into me.  
  
_Julian_ had known I’d wanted him to tackle me. He’d heard me thinking it, felt me wanting it, sensed me needing it. He knew. He knew what was most necessary. So he did it. He tackled me and he fucked me and he loved me.   
  
  
_I just let him keep fucking loving me._  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and...
> 
> ...THIS is how an angsty author with Agathe's past and inner turmoil gives herself a little peace for a while... 
> 
> ...a little self-care... 
> 
> ...a little rest... 
> 
> ...resting in beautiful Julian... 
> 
> ...I posted this and finally slept, fucking _slept_...
> 
> ...consider this a restful intermission...
> 
> ...stretch out naked with this beautiful man, be warm with him, love him in bliss...
> 
> Thank you, Julian. I _do_ want to keep fucking loving you, baby.


End file.
